


My Lord Commander

by lorye



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Implied Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Jaime Lannister Lives, Loneliness, Love Confessions, Mental Anguish, Oral Sex, POV Sansa Stark, Past Ramsay Bolton/Sansa Stark, Politics, Queen in the North, Sansa Stark Needs a Hug, Sansa Stark is Queen in the North, Sex, Sexual Humor, Some Humor, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:08:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27799732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorye/pseuds/lorye
Summary: Sansa is now Sansa I Stark, Queen in the North. She needs to heal from her past, will Jaime Lannister, Lord Commander of her guard, be able to make her forget her torments? On a certain night, she calls him to enter, not even knowing what would happen.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister & Sansa Stark, Jaime Lannister/Sansa Stark
Comments: 16
Kudos: 40





	My Lord Commander

**Author's Note:**

> Well this is the firt time I'm posting something in here and I'm really excited about it. I hope you guys like of this.
> 
> I already apologize for any mistake of writing that may can have, my natural language is not english so this is kind hard for me.

Sansa walked to the throne room, touching the long sleeve of the black dress. Her boots made noise every time they hit the burnt stone floor. Her iron chain was attached to the dress, tinkling with each step she took. She arrived in the hall and sat on her throne with carved wolves and watched everyone sit down.

Her guard was standing, lined up close to the throne. Even Ser Jaime, her commander. He looked at her vehemently. He loved to face her and show his beautiful smile. 

"Your Grace" - Ser Jaime greeted her.

She waved her hand, greeting him back. He just smiled and shook his head. She felt the warmth of the hearth behind her touch her body, the smoke entered her dress and touched her skin. The smell of burning wood took away her concentration. 

"It is wool collection day. You know how it works. You leave the silver and take the wool." - She breathed and then remembered. "We need grains too."

And gold. We need gold, she thought. 

"Can I go?" - asked little Lena, daughter of one of her bridesmaids.

"Is better let the adults take care of this, Lena." - Sansa gave her a smile. "William, Leonel, Marge, Barrow and Ser Jaime. You are going. Oh" - she remembered "the men of Dreadfort and Karholt are in fight. Solve this. I don't want..."  
  
"Your Grace" - Ser Jaime interrupted, speaking quietly close to her ear. - "I need to solve something, can you send another man?"

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, staring at his expression and trying to see the truth.

"Okay" - she said finally. "Henry can go in Ser Jaime's place." She said to the others.

She got up and went to the castle's kitchen, watching the food being prepared for the midday fast break. She usually ate in her room, alone and cold. 

Then she went to speak to her foreman. They were building a village, near Winterfell. It hurt her soul to see people dying of cold and hunger in the North, so she was building another village for the homeless. She felt better this way, helping her people. 

Sansa was making an alliance with important men from Essos so that she would have more supplies. She had written letters and more letters. For Lymoa, Navek, Kahchi, and for more men. She hoped that this alliance did not involve anything matrimonial, she did not want it and had made it very clear in the letters. Men from Free Cities would be sent on an expedition to the North, and she had to get everything ready. She would never ask Bran for resources, no, she didn't want to get to that point. She needed friends in the other country, because on the expedition of the mad queen and her immaculate dothrakis and dragons at Winterfell, she had wiped out all the supplies that Sansa had saved for the North and her people since reconquering Winterfell. She was the Queen of the North, she had a duty to feed and protect her own.

She walked slowly to the terrace, listening to the sound of Ser Jaime's boots following her. She was watching the construction, Winterfell was being rebuilt. She wanted the castle to be bigger and more beautiful.

"There is anything you want to ask me?" - She turned and faced him.

"I am just doing my service."

"And that service of yours is to follow me? - she asked, walking towards him." What you have to solve?

"I think that's particularly mine, right?" - He licked his lips.

"I still don't know why you're here, Sir Jaime, you have a castle in the South, and you gave up your castle to serve me. Why? You don't even answer my questions, you always challenge me. And it gets on my nerves."

"I'm surprised you don't know why." - He smiled, looking into her eyes.

"Besides coveting me, Ser Jaime." - She rolled her eyes

"I admire you, do not covet."

"Men are foolish and predictable, they are slaves to what they want. Tell me why. It is an order." 

"I admire your strength and history, and I am serving you because I feel guilty." - He looked at Sansa's shoulders, at her dress, at her feet, except in her eyes. - "I'm not saying that I don't think you beautiful, everyone does." - He smiled, gallant, playing games again. - "If it is sex you need and not vigil, I can fulfill your wishes."

"I know men like you and I don't want and don't need you in my bed." - She looked at him up and down. - "And I think you should speak with me more respectfully."

"You are wrong, Your Grace" he said "there are no men like me" and smiled.

"Just... do what you have to do and stop follow me."

  
She continued outside for a while, watching her men burn the stone until it melted to spill the boiling liquid on the floor and make the bridge she had asked for. Then they placed the stone bricks on top, and then went up the banister. With folded arms, she was back inside, walking in slow steps.

Being queen and being in Winterfell was good, but she still felt alone, she needed something to warm her up, she just didn't know what. A mulled wine would not do it, a sweater would not do it, neither would a fireplace. She needed something, and it irritated her not to know what it was. Damiana hadn't revived her, didn't drive her crazy as Sansa wanted. No. Damiana gave her a few hours of pleasure. The girl was good with the mouth, she knew how to do things that aroused sensations. But she wanted more, and Sansa was not about to give more.

Damiana want have breakfast with Sansa, sleep with her, walk with her, hug her and kiss her in front of others. And Sansa only wanted her on lonely nights, to satisfy her when she was feeling alone and then send her out. And every time Sansa said that the men would see her inappropriately, the girl would say:

"You are the queen. They don't have to say anything, just respect you."

Sansa agreed, but the truth was that she felt uncomfortable about it, she didn't feel anything for Damiana, she didn't like when she was hugging her all the time. If to rekindle the flame that existed inside of Sansa Stark and end the void, was needed someone to share the bed, that someone was not Damiana.

In the time she spent with the Wildlings, she saw how crazy they were by their men, they were fervent and always told Sansa their sex stories. Listening to them aroused sensations that she could not explain and she only got to know that feeling with Damiana. Sansa didn't want to be alone, but she knew it was better to be alone than with a man, everyone wanted her crown. About Damiana, she just didn't feel anything, and didn't expect the girl to want to sit next to her on the throne, maybe she just liked Sansa.

sometimes she would go to the library and read some romance books to see if what she felt when she was younger rekindled. The truth was that she had passed that phase a long time ago. Sansa no longer wanted to sing or dance, she didn't fantasize about a wedding with a handsome knight, she no longer cared about stories. Her life had turned into a big, boring and cold politc, where she was the centerpiece of the game.

***

She tried to learn Valyrian, as the braavosi would soon arrive. She even hired a translator who spoke several languages, but it was very difficult. She would have to speak to the braavosis in the common language.

After the midday breakfast, her men left for the village and others to settle the fight between the Cassels and the last Karstark. Less Ser Jaime, just after supper, he was gone. It looked like the Cassels had stolen the Karstark's sheeps, so they were intrigued. Sansa wanted to give them a good ear tug.

She hadn't eaten yet, and asked Noemy to bring her a tray in the bedroom, asked the girl to light the fireplace and leave her room scented, because soon the queen would come up to rest. Before that, she went to see Maester Mallow and asked if she had any letters from the South, any from the West or the maximum North. There was not. She expected one of her siblings to hear from her, but none contacted her.

She didn't want to make a wedding ring to settle things, she didn't want a man saying what she should do and how she should rule, she knows how do it, she grew up knowing.

Getting married would always be the last option. After her last husband, she did not want to remarry. No, it would be a nightmare. She had refused many requests, among them, undeniable requests. Even a man from Myr asked for her hand. It would be an irrefutable proposition, Malekin was wealthy, had good land and would make the North known throughout Essos. But it was impossible not compare Malekin to Ramsay. She still carried the scars, would always carry them, would always see them as a symbol of shame and dishonor to herself. She hoped Ramsay was burning in hell.

Her room smelled good of fresh lavender when she entered, she pulled the blinds and left the window open, letting the wind in. The food was divine and the lemon cakes were delicious. It was worth having the glass hothouses that protected lemons from the cold of the North, she would not live in a world without lemon cakes.

She even tried to sleep, but couldn't. She had gotten used to the noise, and now that it was quiet, she missed it. Maybe she should call the ladies and give them an afternoon of food, drinks and singing, or maybe she should call Damiana to satisfy her, they could talk for a long time. Yes, the idea was sweet, maybe it was what she needed, an afternoon of conversation and singing. No, it would not be appropriate. The idea soon got out of her head.

At dinner time, she decided to eat with the others, at the big table in the hall. Everyone was very surprised, since she almost never had dinner with everyone. As interesting and excited as she was, she missed one person. She missed those eyes on her and the mess he made when he got drunk, missed seeing him dance around the room to get her attention.

She even asked if anyone had seen Ser Jaime, but no one had seen him since early. 

_Damn stupid gods_. 

She kept drinking, she hadn't drank like that in a while.

She was all day thinking that he must be in Moon House. One of the northern whorehouses. She don't like of this, she don't liked at all.

She saw him shortly after, dancing around the room with Noemy while Lord Caron sang a song. Her blood heated up and she didn't know why.

Then he would walk towards her and sit in front of her. She was quite drunk, but not enough to say that he was very handsome that night.

"What is wrong, my queen?" - he asked, drinking his wine.

"Where have you been all this time?" - she asked, authoritative and ruder than she wanted.

"Didn't your spies did a good job, my queen?" - He brought the glass to his mouth, wetting his lips.

She took a deep breath and tried to hide her frustration.  
  
  
"What did you say?" - she asked.  
  
"Your spies, they couldn't find me? Funny, I saw them following me. You keep giving them orders even though I've been here for almost a year." He smiled mischievously.  
  
There was no longer any way to deny it, so she would just make up an excuse.

"Well, considering you are a Lannister and I would have you with us here in Winterfell, I had to know who you are."

"You know who I am, we spend a lot of time together." He bit his bottom lip and tilted his head to look at her, since she was looking at the table and not at him. "You do not suspect me, you are afraid I will leave."

"You don't know what you're talking about." She drank another drink of wine, avoiding eye contact.

"You are right, Your Grace, you are not afraid that I will leave, you are afraid that I will enter a brothel and fuck some whore."

She choked on the wine. Why was he so brazen? No one could speak to the queen like that, and yet she did not see herself punishing him for it.

"I'm not afraid of you..."

"Fuck a whore" he completed. "Yes, you are."

"You really don't know what you're talking about." She drank her wine and then remembered that she was the queen, his queen, he shouldn't talk to her like that. "You are an arrogant man, Ser Jaime, hold your tongue, or you will be without it."

"Will you have my tongue cut?" he asked, without waiting for an answer. "No, the Mad King did that, and all you fear most is being compared to some mad king. Be it Aerys, Cersei or Dan ..."

"You don't know anything" she interrupted him before he spoke that damn name. "Do you think I'm afraid of something!? I went through a lot to fear nothing more."

"Yes, that is quite true. However, you are afraid of being a bad queen."

"Wouldn't that be everyone's fear? - she drank her wine, without patience."

"Yes, it could be."

She didn't want to look him in the eye, didn't want him to see the truth. 

  
"I know you feel alone, I know you yearn for a passion, I know you want to love someone unconditionally but after everything that happened, you think you are no longer able to love."

It didn't look like Jaime over there, it looked like Tyrion, he always read it her so well. Perhaps she had underestimated the older lion's intelligence.

"You don't know if love is genuine anymore," - he continued "because you don't love the woman who claims to love you. You need passion, crazy and hot passion, you need to feel your skin burn while you feel pleasure. As much as you try to deny it, you want to love and be loved."

Perhaps she was not so discreet with Damiana. Damn Jaime Lannister.

"You have been watching me very well" she says, as calm as ever. "You watch me more than you do your service."

"I try to observe and know about the things I want."

Things, she was downgraded to "things". She was not a simple thing, she was the queen. Gods, how this man bothered her.

"Men are always looking for a hole to put their penis in" she said, still not looking at him.

"I'm predictable, I admit that. You know I always wanted you in my bed" - he drank his wine and smiled with those beautiful white teeth. He was too drunk or too brave. "I can give you what you want. Passion. I can give you that." - He smiled. "I wouldn't be like your ex-husband, I promise."

She felt a slight tug between her legs, she squeezed them and then crossed them, placing one on top of the other. She took a deep breath and let him speak, if she did, her voice would come out in pieces. She clenched her jaw and stroked her thigh with her fingers.

"You are my queen, say you want me in your bed and I will go."

He seemed to sell himself as if he were a prostitute. But even if he sold himself, her intimacy throbbed between her legs.

"You don't know what you're talking about, ser" - she said and he smiled. Sansa got up and ran to her room.

She asked them to call Damiana, she wasn't the one Sansa wanted, but she was the one who had it. The woman entered, not knowing what had happened, and Sansa broke the distance and attacked her full and soft lips.

"What is wrong, my queen?" - Damiana smiled. "Did you miss my tongue?"

Sansa thought Damiana was too depraved, but when it was Jaime who was depraved, she liked it. Damiana put his hand under her dress and smiled when he saw her soaked folds.

"I'm the one who woke up the queen" - she smiled.

"What?" Sansa stopped her, holding her hand and looking steadily into her eyes. She blushed.

"They say that You Grace is cold after what happened, that you don't want any man in your bed." - She smiled. "Fools, you want a woman in bed."

She didn't care at the moment, she just wanted to stop that fire she felt. Sansa stuck to her hair, making her kneel and suck on it the way she knew how to do it. Her toes curled and the fingers of her hands tightened on Damiana's hair.

She didn't need a crazy passion like Ser Jaime said, she didn't. She was the queen, her kingdom was prosperous, neither the mad queen's expedition nor winter brought the North into crisis. All thanks to Sansa, she knew what to do, she always did. She didn't need a crazg passion, she didn't. What did Jaime Lannister know about women and what they want?

When she was finished, she sent Damiana out, even though the woman piously contested. Sansa wiped her parts with a damp cloth, took off her robes and put on her clothes to sleep. She lay on her cold bed, wrapping herself in the blankets while listening to everyone singing outside.

After her life became bitter, she did not understand the reason for so much singing and dancing. Life is much more terrifying than death, she knew that. She had been through things that she would rather die then passes for it again.  
  
***

She woke up when she felt the sun come in through the window. She broke her fast with the food on the tray. Breads, honey cakes, blackberry cakes, lemon cakes, pigeon pie, milk with honey. So much that she hadn't even been able to prove everything.

She chewed the fresh mint leaves, made her mouth water and then spat, and then did it again. She dismissed the bridesmaids and dressed herself. She put on her wool dress reinforced with many fabrics and cloths and belts and leather. She put her metal accessory around her neck, brushed her long hair, tied two straps back and put on the crown. She put on her black boots and went to look at himself in the mirror.

She passed her eyes over the quill and the dyer and thought about sending a letter to Jon, maybe one to Bran. She wished she could send one to Arya, but she didn't even know where she was. No, maybe she should wait. Maybe someone would send a letter, yeah, maybe.

She opened the door to her room and left. It was the day when she was to go and observe the construction of the village.

She exchanged a few words with her chatelaine, asked if there was any news of Navek Shanthures, but it haven't.

"If he arrives while I'm in the village, offer him the best room, the best wine and the best food."

"Yes, Your Grace, as you wish."

She and her men went out on horseback. Ser Jaime, Keron Greengood, of her guard, Lord Harbar Stane, Lord William Blackmyre, Lord Henry Flinn, Lord William's two eldest sons and her Master of Works.

Lord William's castle was very close to Winterfell, and he was always there. He always praised her, always showed service, always did what she said without even questioning, was always at meetings, always gave her advice, always said what the people wanted and needed. If she were foolish, she would think he was being kind and doing his part, but she knew that all of this was because she didn't have a Hand. Maybe she should have one, Lord William would be a good Hand, but she still thought she could do this alone

The good thing about leaving Winterfell was to feel the wind touching her cheeks, the crumbling part, was having to hear Lord William's eldest son talk all the time. Theron talked about marriage all the time, and as much as he was a handsome man and on her age, she was not the least bit interested. Sansa tried her hardest not to say anything that was considered offensive, but the pressure from her subjects with the marriage was irritating. She learned that subjects should never contest the king, perhaps that did not apply to queens. Being the only queen left in Westeros, she had a lot of respect, but they still touched on subjects she didn't want to touch.

"Does the alliance with the braavosi involve marriage?" - asked Theron, riding on her side.

She just gave him a look, a look that immediately silenced him. Being queen had its advantages.

Arriving at the village, she got off her horse, smiling when she saw the village almost ready.

"We will name it Sansa's village" - said her Master of Works.

The houses were next to each other, with a small stream between them, surrounding the village, the fact that the lake was running and not frozen was very good. The roofs were made of wood and inside were covered with straw, due to the cold, the walls were yellow brick, the doors and windows were all dark and polished wood.

  
At that moment, she was proud of herself. Her father would be proud, Robb and her mother too. She was fortifying the North because it was her home, and the suzerain protects her own, she learned it from her father. He always protected his own, always did his duty, she was happy to be doing the same. She wanted Robb to be alive and to be able to see the North as it was now, it was no longer Seven Kingdoms, the North was a kingdom of its own, an independent kingdom. She wouldn't have made it if it weren't for Robb, she was grateful for everything he did for the North, and she would continue to do her duty.

On the way back, happier, she trotted with her horse beside Ser Jaime. Her horse's paw sank into the snow and then diluted it, turned into water and ran. Perhaps winter was ending, it would be good if it was over. The snow no longer covered much of the ground, she remembered sinking the horse's paw while riding on a heavy snowy afternoon. That day was even sunny, yellow and cheerful.

It accelerated a little and Ser Jaime followed, leaving the others behind.

"How was your night's sleep, Your Grace?" - asked Ser Jaime.

"I drank a lot, I woke up with headaches" - she said, pressing her gloved hand on the horse's reins.

"Do you remember yesterday?" - he asks, totally brazen and smiling.

She would rather not remember, that situation was somewhat ... embarrassing. What Damiana had said was still echoing in her head, she needed to clear things up, but she couldn't ask her castellan or her maester. It was embarrassing to ask Jaime, but he was the best option.

"Ser ..." - she gasped at first. "Ser, you, who frequent promiscuous places,.."

"Brothels" - he corrected her, smiling. "You are talking abour brothels?" - She nodded. "I don't go to brothels."

"Still, what have you been hearing of me for those places you go?"

"The same as everyone. That you're bitter, lonely, they say you didn't get married because you can't have children, that you don't want any man in your bed because ...

"I already understand" - she interrupted, and when she looked at his face, he smiled. He always smiled. "Tell everyone who makes that kind of comment behind my back, that they should mind their own lifes, not mine."

"You are the queen, they will always talk about you."

They always talked about her even before she became queen, she was foolish to think that something could change.

"Do you say those things about me?" she asked in a whisper, it was out of control, without thinking.

"No, I only have compliments for you." - He smiled.

They always praised her, but they had reasons. Lord Theron because he wanted to marry her, Lord William because he wanted to be her Hand. Did Jaime Lannister want her throne? It didn't seem like that. All that appearance, those looks. It didn't seem like that.

When she returned to the castle, she saw that Navek had already arrived.

"Where is he?" she asked her castelan.

"It's in the room where you prepared it for him."

"Good."

She went to the kitchen to talk to her cooks. She didn’t know what food the braavosi liked, so she asked for hot and spicy food to be made, she thought it was what they ate.

She went up to the room. She opened the blinds to show her solar. She changed her horse dress for silk and wool, put on her crown and relaxed her feet. She ordered Navek to be called and sat in the chair there in the manor.

She heard a knock on the door and went to open it an rolled her eyes when she saw Ser Jaime in a golden doublet.

"Why are you here?" - she asked. "Navek is coming."

"Do you intend to talk to a stranger without a guard?"

She twisted her face and opened the door for him to enter.

"Keep quiet, you hear me? I don't want you to meddle in my subjects."

"Okay" - he smiled and sat on her bed.

"Get up!" - She said, pulling him by the arm. "Stay here." She positioned him behind the chair where she would sit. "Don't move, don't say anything."

"As my queen commands."

She heard a knock on the door and went to open it, Navek smiled with his gold teeths. He and the other two entered.

"Welcome to my home" - was one of the few phrases she knew in Valyrian.

"Very good!" - he praised her in the common language.

"Sit here." She smiled at them and reached for the armchairs.

"Your land is very cold, Queen Sansa" - Navek said "my men and I almost froze when we arrived."

"Oh, yes it is, but beauty pays off."

"Oh, yes! It pays off" - he sat down. "It pays to cross the sea to admire you, Queen Sansa."

She smiled slightly.

"These are my brothers, Nothorus" - he pointed to the man on the left "and Manthi Shanthures."

All with dark hair, bright eyes, gold on teeth, fingers, ears, even on the nose. Navek had a gold ring on his nose and in the middle of his dark eyebrows. Strong, drawn-out accents. They wore colorful, long clothes and white boots.

"It is a pleasure, Queen Sansa" - said Nothorus and Manthi.

"It is a pleasure to have you at my home."

"And who is this man? - asked Navek, pointing at Jaime."

"He is..."

"I am Jaime Lannister, lord commander of the queen's guard" - he said first.

 _I told him to be shut_. She grunted.

"Is he also your advisor?" asked Navek, frowning.

What should she say? That he was there to protect her from them?

"Yes, he is an advisor too, a man I trust."

"I understand." Navek sighed, brought his finger to his mouth and bit his huge gold ring. "I brought gifts for you."

"Yes?!" - her blue eyes shone.

"Yes!" He smiled, showing his gold teeth. "Chests full of gold, for you, my queen. I also brought the best vintage of Braavos wine, I brought incredible fabrics to make you dresses, but silks can't stand too much cold."

"I am very grateful. I have gifts for you too."

"I will love your gifts, whatever they are." He smiled, looking at her intensely with his amber eyes.

She swallowed, clenched her jaws and contracted her legs. None of the gifts involved marriage, none. There would be no wedding. 

_I would never marry again._

"I had a special dinner prepared for you, gentlemen." - She smiled and shook hands. "The people here are warm despite the cold, they will welcome you with open arms."

"Yes, I imagine so." He crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair. "I could spend hours talking to you, but I know that we have more important matters."

Politics, her life had become a big boring and cold politics, yes, it had. Navek wanted land from the kingdom in exchange for gold. Her kingdom was big, yes, it was. But she would not sell her kingdom, she would never do that. But Navek said that the land he bought would remain Sansa's domain, but he could do whatever he wanted with it, build palaces or whatever was done in Braavos.

She could accept that, yes. The men Navek sent to her kingdom would serve her, that was a good thing. She needed the gold, needed it. She had to buy supplies for everyone, make more wool, build new villages, and for that it needed gold.

"One day I want to take you to Braavos, show you my palace, our culture."

"It would be a pleasure" - she smiled.

He didn't want a wedding, although Sansa thought he was flirting with her a few times, but he didn't say anything about marriage. And if he ever wanted to raise the alliance, she would manage to convince him not to. Perhaps she would find some woman in her realm who wanted to be a lady in Braavos and marry Navek Shanthures.

***

The foods were really hot and spicy. She looked at Navek and his brothers and saw in their faces that they loved to feel their mouths burn by the pepper. She drank water to stop burning but it only made it burn more. She craved the lemon cakes, she couldn't stand eating anything hot or hot anymore.

She talked to them, heard their stories, she even laughed at the stories, not because she thought they were funny, but to pleased. Lord William laughed at all the jokes of Nothoros, while Lord Theron did not stop scorning his presence.

Ser Jaime had much better and funnier jokes, but she didn't say that out loud. From his jokes, she didn't have to pretend to like it, although they were all very inappropriate.

Ser Jaime had proposed a game, he said he had learned from his brother. Sansa had spent enough time with Tyrion to know that his games were embarrassing. So she denied it and let only them play, while she watched everything.

"I'm going to say something about you" Jaime said, holding the silver cup with his left hand "if I am right, you drink, if I am wrong, I drink."

"I see" said Lord William. "What do I get from that?"

"Fun?" supposed Navek.

"Are you sure you don't want to participate, queen Sansa?" asked Manthi, smiling with his gold teeth.

Sansa looked at Jaime and then looked back at Manthi. She shook her head.

What if they said obvious things? How has she ever been married? That game would get her drunk. Or else would kill her of embarrassment.

"I'll start" Jaime said, vague. "Theron, you didn't get married because the woman you want doesn't want you. Am I right?" Jaime raised an eyebrow.

The question was not for her, but she took a sip of her wine. That game was for stupid people, maybe crazy stupid people.

"Wrong, Kingslayer. I didn't get married because I don't want to. Drink" - he said.

Jaime smiled, unconvinced, but drank.

"You had your first whore at the age of twelve," said Navek, pointing the glass at Jaime.

"Wrong. Drink."

"Fourteen?"

"Drink. It." He smiled, running his tongue over his lips.

"Fifteen?"

"I have never been with a whore. Drink."

That game was to make people embarrassed, Sansa's cheeks was so red and hot that they were burning. In her mind, Sir Jaime was a wanton man, who slept with several women, be they prostitutes or ladies. Perhaps she was mistaken.

"Have you never been with a whore?" asked Nothoros. "What's wrong with the men of here?"

"I have never been with whores, only with noble women."

That game was a waste of time for Sansa. Say what women they were with? Just needed to say how many.

"How many of those noble women have you been to?" asked Navek.

Gods! But what kind of question was that? Good thing she wasn't in that game.

"I only had one."

"But ... for your whole life?" asked Manthi.

Jaime agreed. He had only had one woman in his life. Cersei had been the only woman in his life. She saw it now.

"And you never wanted fuck any...?" asked Navek before being interrupted.

"Look at the way you speak on the queen's presence!" - Theron protested.

"Theron, it is okay." She looked at him and smiled slightly, nodding.

"Actually ..." - Jaime continued "there is a woman."

"Who is she?" - Nothoros asked.

She swallowed, took a sip of her wine to wet her throat.

"The most beautiful woman I have ever seen, the strongest too, the most intelligent. I am stuck with her."

"I didn't know you were a romantic, sir" - Sansa said, getting involved in the conversation for the first time.

"I don't usually be" - he smiled with those shiny teeth "but there is something about her that makes me want to be like that."

Something whispered in her ear that this woman was her, but what if it wasn't? Ser Jaime was famous among women.

_Of course it is not about me, and what does it matter?_

He was Jaime Lannister, an arrogant man, and even if he wasn't, she had grown tired of men in her life. All that grace from Ser Jaime was just a desire to sleep with the queen, it was all to take her to bed, so that later he could have an advantage.

She fell silent again, just letting the men continue their game. She found herself smiling at one point, laughing at Nothoros' jokes, no matter how boring.

She had never spent so much time at dinner celebrating something, or at the celebration after the war against the deads. Her men had already perfected themselves with the guests, the women had enjoyed it even more. They were almost naked while dancing for them, their maids threw themselves at them. Sansa wanted to say that this was a lowland, that it was outrageous, but then she remembered that these women were not noble, they had no reason to behave. She just took a big sip of her wine and forgot that she was a noble woman, that she was the queen of that great ice castle.

"You are smiling." Ser Jaime put his shoulder against hers.

"I am?" - She was no longer a silly girl who was enchanted with knights, but she blushed at the moment. If asked, she would say it was the wine's fault.

"Yes"

His smile was too beautiful, warm and perverse. Not as perverse as Ramsay, Ramsay's smiles were ugly and frightening, Jaime's were none of that. She smiled back, surrendered by his smile.

"I should lie down, a queen cannot stay up all night." - She remembered that it was the queen, who had to set an example, that it was not appropriate to stay up late at night drinking.

"As the queen, you should determine what you can and can't, don't you think?" - He leaned up to her ear to get it out.

"Still, it is too late." - She should get up and walk to her room, but something inside her prevented it.

"Do you want me to accompany you?" - he says.

She didn't need an escort just to go to her room.

"Yes."

But she wanted.

He stood up, still holding the cup in his left hand, and extended his right arm to her. Sansa set her glass on the table and stood up, refusing to take Ser Jaime's arm.

Going to the bedroom, she realized that he still had the cup in hand, she also realized that he was more handsome when he was without armor. The silver armor with a carved wolf was beautiful, of course it was, but Ser Jaime wearing a doublet of light fabric and cotton was much more beautiful. The armor made him big and stocky, more than he was.

"When I leave you at your door" he says, walking beside her "will you let me in?"

The wine in her stomach came back to her throat and in thousandths it came back down.

"Why would I ask you to come in?" She looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

She kept walking until her feet stopped in front of her bedroom door. She would go back there, she would be cold again, her bed would be as cold as ever and she would be alone. She put her hand on the door and opened it slowly, the wood creaked loudly as it crawled across the stone floor. She went in, but didn't close the door completely, just stared at him. There in front of her was he, breathing lightly, as calm as ever, holding his cup in his hand and smiling with his lips that were now purple with wine.

"Do you want to come in and drink with me?" - she asked quietly, denying herself that she was doing what he said she would do: invite him in.

"I would love to, Your Grace." He smiled and took slow steps, she just stepped back, still looking at him and let he close the door.

She was a little lost, she had a man in her room and it wasn't to discuss politics or to give her messages, he was there because she invited him to drink, she didn't even want to drink. She just didn't want to feel alone. She just wanted to have someone to talk to or to hug her, to watch her sleep, she wanted to feel a light breath on her neck, she wanted to sleep sweetly like she hadn't done in years. It seemed crazy. 

_Someone to hug you and watch you sleep?_ Her conscience said. _Please, don't be stupid. He is_ _a_ _man, like all the others. Like Ramsay._

_Shut up!_ Her other she said. 

For her it didn't seem like a tremendous madness, maybe she wasn't lucid, maybe it was all the fault of loneliness.

She stood in the middle of the room, between the table and the bed, watching him sit at the table and smile at her, who was visibly disconcerted.

 _What did_ _I call him for? Drinking,_ she remembered.

She went to the table and took the glass jar that contained the liquid. She had already drunk too much. So left the jar of wine on the table and took the jar of water, she poured the water into her glass on the table and sat down.

"The game is more fun with wine, but I will let you drink water."

"Game?" - Oh, that damn game. "Oh, no, no games. Enough games for today."

"It will be just the two of us, you need not be ashamed."

She knew that he would make embarrassing assumptions, but what else could happen besides a slight fleeting embarrassment? He wouldn't even remember it in the next day. And besides, she wanted to find out who was the woman he was stuck to.

"I will play this stupid game with you, but this will be the only time" - she said and then drank her water to wet her throat. "And you won't tell anyone that, neither that I played this stupid game or the things you take out of my mouth."

He laughed, nothing exaggerated, there was no one there for him to make an appearance, only her.

"What?" She asked, frowning and gathering her ginger eyebrows on her forehead.

"The way you say ... that I am going to take things out of your mouth, seems a little suggestive, doesn't it?"

"Don't make me regret having the guest you in."

"Forget what I said." - He shook his head and smiled "You ..." he assessed her "loves to sing." - He smiled.

She thought it would be embarrassing questions to answer, but answering if she liked to sing was easy. But as she was no longer a girl who hummed in the gardens, she thought she should explain instead of just drinking.

"Well, I loved singing when I was younger, but after all, I don't know what happened, I am not a girl who dances and sings and twirls anymore, but I still enjoy songs. One night I sang a song I had in a book, I slept much better that night. " - She then drank and saw how she spoke, she didn't even need to say anything, she just needed to drink.

She looked up at him to see the smile on his lips. He pointed the cup at her, indicating that it was her turn.

"You were very fond of my uncle Brynden." - She smiled. She didn't know if he really was, but all the men of Westeros liked the Black Fish, if that wasn't the case with Jaime, she would feel like a fool.

But to her satisfaction, he drank.

"My father and Lord Hoster had in mind to marry me with your aunt Lysa" - he said "but all I had in mind was the Black Fish. I had heard stories about him and started to admire him."

It was good to hear, she had to admit.

"Poor Lysa" - Sansa said, remembering how unsuccessful her aunt was with men. What could Sansa say? She was even worse with men. "I'm sure she must have been very excited to marry you, rolling her skirts and jumping around."

"Oh yes?" - He gave one of his smiles. "Did you look like that when you first saw me? Jumping around of happiness?" He opened his smile wider.

"No" - she smiled. "I didn't even notice you, sir. Don't be so meddlesome. "

Hadn't she noticed? He was so beautiful when he arrived at Winterfell that she couldn't stop staring at him.

"It is my turn" - he spoke immediately. "You didn't take your eyes off me when you saw me trotting on that horse and dressed in that Kingsguard's armor."

She had a playful smile on her face, she bit her lip, but didn't move her hand to bring the cup to her mouth.

"This is a game where no lies are allowed, Queen Sansa" - he said, with a sad face.

She raised her glass to her lips and saw a huge smile grow on his lips. This time she wouldn't comment or try to explain herself.

"You never wanted to get married," she supposed.

He pursed his lips, as if defeated, but then he smiled and showed his teeth.

"Wrong, Sansa Stark, drink your water."

Had he already wanted to get married? This was new for her, very new. She drank. Sansa was curious, who was the woman he had wanted to marry? It could be Cersei, but that would be abhorrent in Westeros, but they were already sleeping together, what could be more abominable than that?

"You already got married."

"But this is not worth it, it is very obvious" - she said, showing her palm.

"There is no such rule in the game."

She drank. She was still thinking about it, he had already wanted to get married and was tied up by a woman. She didn't know why she was curious to know who this woman was. It's not me, he thought. Best of all, I don't want a man at my feet anymore. A husband would be a lot of work. But after the years she spent in this land, she knew that she didn't need to be married to sleep with a man, not that she wanted to.

"Ok then... You had three children."

"They were never my children." - His face closed. Had he been mad at her for that? "They were nothing but semen in Cersei's cunt."

Did that make them less of his children?

"Drink. I am right after all. "

He drank. Did that still hurt him? Losing Cersei and the kids still hurt him?

They had more in common than she had thought. She wanted to be a queen and he wanted to be a knight. She enjoyed the stories of the princesses and he of the heroes of Westeros. She had been arrested in Kings landing by the Lannisters, and he had been arrested in riverrun by the Starks. The reason they were both alive was the other. She would not have survived if her brother had not had Jaime, Cersei would have already killed her, and she was sure that Robb would have killed Jaime if she had not been trapped in Cersei's claws.

Now they were both there, on the same side, with no more siblings to torture them. They had been allies for a long time, she had him as Lord Commander for a while, she had him in her home for a while. He was the only man she called to her room, the only man she trusted enough to do that. She trusted him, no matter how hard she denied it. She would never admit it, no, he would never hear it from his mouth. But was true.

He cleared his throat:

"You want me."

Her movements were slow, she drank from her cup. She didn't even think straight, she just did. The pupils of his eyes dilated, and the candlelight made his eyes even more beautiful.

"You ..." - he tried to speak.

"It is my turn" - she interrupted him.

"I proposed the game."

"I am the queen."

He waited for her.

"I am the woman that you are stuck to," she said. She was so nervous that her lungs lacked air.

He licked his lips, laced his fingers through the glass and brought it to his mouth, drinking the wine. He returned the cup to the table in silence. Everything was very quiet, the only noise was the wood crackling in the fireplace as it burned. He leaned back in his chair, looking at her calmly.

"What we do now that we know that both feel something for each other?" he asked, resting his hand on his knee.

She swallowed, blinked repeatedly, then slowed down, blinking slowly. The air that entered her lungs cut into her throat, tearing everything inside her. She didn't know how to respond, she didn't even know what to do now that she had admitted that she felt something for him.

"My past ... is still on me, still marked on my soul ... on my skin." She looked deep into his emerald green eyes. She looked at the expressions on his face, as if trying to read his mind. She didn't know if she would be able to sleep with a man again.

"I won't go to your bed if you don't want me to do" - he said, leaning forward, he put his hand over hers and then took it in his. "I can wait, until the day you want me, until the day you feel like you are no longer marked by the past. And if you never want me, well, I can live with just hugs and kisses."

"Would you wait for me?" she asked with the last bit of voice she had.

"Of course I would." He smiled, leaned over a little, getting closer. "Can I kiss you?"

She nodded slightly. His thin lips touched hers, then they opened and she was actually kissed. The kiss softened even more, it was soft but also intense. He tasted like wine and cinnamon, his kiss was warm, it was soft, it was delicate and it was incredibly good. His hand slid through her hair, smoothing the strands and entwining them in her fingers. He rested his right arm on her leg, she leaned over, sitting on the edge of the chair, so that she could be closer to him, so that she could feel the heat of his body. She put her hands up and touched his face, went up to the hair, went down to the neck and stopped at the hair on the back of his neck.

She couldn't imagine that this was really happening. Years ago Jaime Lannister was just a knight of the Kingsguard, after which he became her enemy, and then her ally. And now he was in her room, exchanging kisses and caresses with her.

She felt the heat of his body touching the palm of her hand, she wanted to find out if the other parts were hot too. She had to stop to catch her breath, but staring at his face would embarrass her. He moved away a few inches, breathing heavily, meeting her eyes. She closed her eyelids and touched her forehead to his, feeling the warm air come out of his nostrils.

It could be crazy, her mother would consider it crazy if she saw her now. But she had been through too much, the fact that she was still alive was a reason to want to live, right? To want to be happy, to want to have long laughs and dance. Her life has been a disgrace, the gods had judged her, had branded her with a hot iron, she didn't know what they had against her to make her suffer so much.

She spent years of her life believing in the gods. She spent a lot of time praying, begging for mercy, or asking them to just kill her in her sleep. But she never got any help. She had to fend for herself, did everything she did to survive and was very proud of herself. But she still felt sad and bitter, dying little by little in her deep and dark loneliness.

Maybe she needed a crazy passion, maybe Jaime was right. Maybe letting him into in her cold heart was not a bad idea, maybe having him in bed was good, it was innovative and invigorating. Maybe. She had to stop thinking that all men were Ramsay, Jaime was nothing like him.

"I don't think I need to wait," she whispered.

He then pulled her into a stronger kiss, lifting and bringing her along. His right arm went around her waist and his left hand caught in her hair.

"But first" - she interrupted him, already out of breath. "My body ... You may not like it."

"And why wouldn't I like it?"

"I have scars everywhere," she says with a little bitterness in her voice.

She didn't take her clothes off in front of anyone, she always dismissed her maids when they wanted to bathe her, she never took off her clothes when she was with Damiana, she never showed her body to anyone after what happened.

"You are beautiful" - he kissed her "you have nothing to worry about, don't be ashamed of me. There's no way I don't like something about you."

Then she kissed him again, holding his face with her hands, feeling his beard drag across her face and tickle, his nose moved against hers. His hand was on her back, squeezing and sliding lower and lower. He tangled himself in the chain around Sansa's neck, she smiled and took it off. Jaime kissed her desperately again.

He tried to pull the knots off her dress, she stopped responding the kisses and froze in place. Jaime pulled his hand away, pressing his lips together and muttering something inaudible.

"Do I get undressed first?" - He asked smiling sweetly and pulling the knots of the doublet.

He had some difficulty, so she thought of helping him. She pulled on the laces, undoing the knots. When the doublet was fully open, she slid it over Jaime's shoulders, the white linen shirt, she wanted to tear it up, it looked fun, but she didn't. He yanked off his boots. Her hands stopped on his shorts and let him do it alone, after he removed the cotton shorts, he had another linen shorts, and when he removed both, she was startled by what she saw.

He had strong arms, broad shoulders, a flat stomach with small muscles that bounced like waves, he had some hair on his chest, blond and fine. Scars on the chest, arms, ribs and legs. Sansa looked at the member between his legs, she wanted more candles in the room, so she could see him better. Whole pink and bulging, it was big, bigger than she remembered to be a penis. It was full of blond hair in the groin. Her core twisted at the beautiful sight.

"See?" He took Sansa's hand and placed her fingers over one of the scars on his chest. "I have scars too."

She ran her fingers over the long scar, it was white and dull.

"Warriors use their scars as symbols of honor" - he continued. "This one I won in the siege of Pyke." He showed the scar on his shoulder "Do you know why I like it? Because it reminds me that I survived that day, it means I came home alive. All these scars of mine symbolize a victory. You should see yours like this as well. "

"I didn't get my scars by fighting in battles."

"No, but you was victorious nonetheless." - He touched her face. "Ramsay is dead, Joffrey is dead, Cersei is dead, Littlefinger is dead. You won, you won them."

"Yes but..."

"Look at this." He started to take his gold hand off. "I hate this, it's horrible, was my ruin. Look at it." He shows to her. It must been terrifying for him, losing his right hand, losing everything he was. "I know scars can hurt, not in the skin but in your heart. I love you, Sansa, like I never loved anyone else. I promise look after you, to protect you, to gave my life for you. And promise, not look at you with nothing but love, and respect and tenderness. I would love you no matter what, no matter what he did with you, no matter how your body looks like. Because all that matters is you, you and your gentle heart."

She smiled sheepishly and with tears on her eyes, she started pulling on the laces on her dress. Her fingers were trembling slightly, they were cold and her heart was thundering wildly. She removed her boots, loosened her hair, pulled the dress over her shoulders and let it fall to her feet. She shivered before taking off her underwear, she was under Jaime's eyes and it was the first time she showed her body to anyone. She felt a wave of cold touch her body as soon as her nightshirt touched the floor.

Jaime took two steps forward, placed his hand on Sansa's rib, below her breast, and ran his thumb over a scar. She had scars under her breasts, on her thighs, under her buttocks and on her back. Jaime touched her hair and brushed his lips against the scars, some more whitish than the others, some more blurry than the others. Some were huge because the wound had to be closed with a hot blade. Some made by Joffrey's knights and the other big part by Ramsay.

"You are beautiful" he whispered with the lips on her skin.

His lips were warm and gentle, he was warming her body where he kissed, where his hot, wet tongue passed, making her shiver and squirm, as if he were erasing the pain while he was kissing. He kissed her on the lips again and caressed her body, her hands went back to pulling his soft blond hair.

She walked on her back until her calves touched the wood of the bed, she lay down and felt him lie on top of her, kissing her on the lips and neck. Her legs parted to fit him between them. She could feel his cock in her belly, felt a liquid soak her belly. She could already feel her insides drain, she could feel her movements throbbing and asking for more. 

He still had his face hidden by her hair, he was still sucking on her pale neck until she felt the spine go up. He kissed her on the lips again, so slow it was torture. He went down a little and started to kiss the skin above the breasts, then he grabbed her left breast and grabbed the right with his big, strong hand. His tongue was hot, she felt that wherever he licked it burned, left it on fire and wanting more. There was a trail of kisses from the breasts to the belly, went down further and found her groin. She started to sigh and burn inside, it was when his tongue touched her intimacy that she really felt herself burn. It was burning, falling on a volcano, walking on embers, was falling off a cliff and collapsing into a waterfall of icy water.

She saw him smile as he looked at her, kneeling over her. He was more beautiful without clothes and in the candlelight, his hair falling on his forehead, his chest unruly as he searched for air. Beautiful, yes, the most beautiful of all.

He bit his lower lip, touched her knee with his hand and parted her legs. He kissed all the skin on her legs, from the ankles to the thighs, then returned to her lips, sucking so hard that would have swollen afterwards.

He pulled her left leg and put it around his hip, she did the same with the other, circling his hip. He touched his face to her hair and smelled it, kissed it, caressed it, and then returned to the lips, then kissed the nose, the cheeks, forehead, eyes and returned to the lips.

She felt his penis brush her core, which was already throbbing madly. He kissed her lips, but she liked it better when he kissed her neck, so she pulled his blond hair up and brought his lips up to her neck. She gasped, and soon she was on fire again. He let out a happy sigh after hearing the moan she was hiding and started to encourage her even more, and soon she was falling into the volcano.

He positioned himself and entered her, she sighed and he stopped. Sansa kissed his lips to encourage him to continue, and was soon falling off a cliff and collapsing into a waterfall of icy water. She couldn't hide her moans anymore, and Jaime didn't want her to hide them, so she didn't.

His beard spidered her face as he sucked on her chin, he thrust into it and sucked on het neck at the same time, not even giving Sansa a chance to focus on just one pleasure.

The ambushes were gentle, his touches were gentle, his hand was warm to touch it, his breath on her neck was warm. It was all so slow and pleasant. She felt him come and go, felt his hips move and merge, felt the heat of his body transfer to hers. Her walls was tighten his penis, she felt the pulse coming from his cock. It was driving her crazy.  
I heard the delicious grunts he made in her ear as he slowly penetrated. She was hot. Her body was erupting, and she would erupt, she felt she would.

her nipples were tingling and she needed him to pull them apart or suck really hard. 

"Jaime ..." - she found herself swearing his name, swearing and swearing.

He stepped away, removed his face from her hair and looked her in the eye, returned to kiss her, suck her and bite her lips and even her cheeks. He asked her to whisper his name, so she did, singing and swearing his name.

She felt herself tremble beneath him, sighing deeply as she felt the fire invading her while he invaded her. It was falling, falling from a cliff to a lava lake. Her toes curled, her body contorted, her voice became uneven and high. Jaime seemed to like it, he smiled, looking into her eyes and biting his lips, he smiled.

"I am almost... oohh. Please, Jaime, please!"

"Fuck, Sansa, look what you do with me."

Jaime let out a choked groan from the back of his throat, it only made her inflamed even more.

He pulled her right leg, put his left arm through it and held it with him after opening his hand on the bed mattress. Her knee was close to her chin and Jaime had not stopped moving on it. Their bodies were glued together, hot and sweaty, the noises that their wet bodies were making were driving her crazy, it was so embarrassing and exciting at the same time.

The embers again, the volcano, the cliff. Falling and burning. Then, she plunged into cold water. She moaned, feeling her body tense and in an instant relax. He pushed himself inside her again, spilling his seed on inside, and pushed himself once more, howling her name and sighing. He kissed her before withdrawing from her and plummeting to the side.

She had to stop for a while to compose herself, to let the blood calm down, to make her breathing soft again. She felt Jaime's hand pull her closer to him. Her body was still warm, she was still breathing deeply.

He took her chin in his hand and made her look at him.

"Are you ashamed to look me in the eye?" he asked, smiling.

"No, no, I don't." - She sighed. "I just ... needed to compose myself."

He gave a laugh so good it made her want to hear it for the rest of her life. He kissed her, still with a smile on his lips

"I never had that" - he said, holding her in his arms.

"What?"

"Laying down with a woman after having her." Sansa leaned on his shoulder and rested her head on his chest. "When I was with Cersei, it was always fast, always hidden, she always did what she wanted and left in the blink of an eye. I never slept with her and hugged her like I do with you now."

"I don't know if I feel comfortable while you talk about Cersei" - she said, hiding her face.

Hearing him talk about the time he slept with her, that she was the only woman in his life, it seemed that she was still important to him. Deep down, it hurt her ego. She was the woman he was stuck with, so why talk about Cersei's damn thing?

"She hasn't meant anything to me for a long time, you don't have to be jealous." He smiled and bit his bottom lip. Oh, he always smiled. And, oh, that smile always melted her.

"I am not jealous, I just don't feel good hearing you talk about her." - She squirmed in his arms, trying to get out of his grip, but he only made her tighter.

"Don't go, please."

"Do I need to remember that she was my ruin?" she gave up running but still had a frown on her face.

"No, I am sorry. I'm an idiot for talking about her during our moment. " He stroked her face, kissed her pointed and irritated lips. "If it is any consolation, it was much better with you."

"Just stop talking about her!" She said suddenly.

"I want to talk about you then" - he said, throwing himself on top of her.

"Actually, I wanted to know about you, it's you who are in my house and I am the queen."

"You are" - he smiled. "So you can ask anything you want."

"You are not sleeping with me for interest, are you?" She asked, with empty eyes and a tight heart.

She was perfecting him, his smile, his soft hair, his body, his lips. She always had a feeling that all men approached for something, for the throne, to be clearer. Was he approaching for the same?

Jaime had been the man she felt confident enough to show her the body, she was the man she felt confident to share her bed with, he was the man she had at her door and she answered him, she called to come in, to drink, and then ended up making love with him even though she was not married. May the gods judge her for it, but she would do it again. Having Jaime in her bed made her forget the torment that was her life.

If he was sleeping with her for interest, for the throne, for a position, she would feel horrible. If he was having sex with her just to get her pregnant ... Although he didn't seem to think about getting her pregnant when he used his tongue. But if that were the case, she would have to reject him, and in order not to see him anymore, she would take him out of her guard, perhaps even have to send him away from the North.

He touched her hair and then touched her lips. If she was being deceived by him, so be it always.

"No, I am not sleeping with you for interest, Sansa." - He kissed her and she almost moaned. "I am sleeping with you because I am stuck with you." He smiled broadly. "I am in love with you."

Was she stupid to believe what he said? She spent years pulling men away, but Jaime was different, Jaime she always wanted around. And after kissing him, after feeling the heat of his body, after feeling him inside, she was open to falling in love with him.

She blushed and cursed herself for it.

"Does saying I am in love with you embarrass you?" - He smiled. He loved to do that.

"Yes" - she whispered shyly.

"Well, don't be."

"I have another question" - she said and he shook his head. "Why are you here?"

"Because you asked me to come in." - He smiled.

"No, not here in my bed, here in the North. Why are you here if you have a big castle in the South?"

"I once made a promise to your mother, and that promise involved your protection." - He stroked her hair. "She made me swear that I would protect and save you. She didn't say anything about me being able to fuck your eldest daughter, but I don't think she would care." He kissed her and smiled. "I stayed, because I wanted to protect you more than anything, to make sure you wouldn't be in danger or something. I wouldn't be able to sleep if I knew something happened to you and I could have saved you."

"So it is good that you stayed" - she said, touching his beard with her fingertips.

He slowly kissed her again, sucking on her tongue and biting her lip. She spread her legs and received him again between them, fitting him in. Her hands went up to his hair, she pulled his blond hair so much that his head came along, she turned her face and left her neck exposed so that he could kiss her there. Oh, he was good with his tongue.

"My queen" - he said, leaning on the arms to look at her "I should go, your men cannot know that Your Grace shared the bed with the Kingslayer."

"I don't care about them, just go back to what you were doing." She pulled his hair and took it to her neck.

He continued to kiss and suck her. She thought she should have him suck her down there, but she was ashamed to ask for such a thing. But she had already shared a bed with him, her legs were already open for him, she had to put her shyness aside.

"I want more, Jaime!" - she said.

"Gods, woman, do you want to kill me?"

She stuck to the strands of his blond hair and pushed his head down, he was happy to do his duty. He licked her from top to bottom, bottom to top, bit the outside and kissed the inside gently. His mouth and tongue were made by a god, were worked for that kind of thing, to kiss, to suck, to bite ... Was there anything else he could do with his mouth? She wanted to find out.

He went up and kissed her again, she tasted her own taste and groaned at that. She had the most beautiful man in her bed, the man who could make that act gentle and pleasant, she was in heaven.

"I need to go to my rooms" - he said, trying to escape.

"No, no" - she clung to his arms, with the strength of her legs and hips, she spun him over and over "no, no, no. You promised me crazy passion, you promised me. Passion, remember ?" She kissed him while she spoke. "You promised to make me burn, Jaime. Make me burn." Her voice was pleading and started to be higher than it normally was.

"I will give you that, Sansa. I just need a..."

"But I want... I want..." She couldn't say that, was to embarrassing. 

"Say it, Sansa" He says. "I want to hear."

"I want you to fuck me" She bent down and rubbed her nose on is ear. "I want your... your cock inside me." And then she bite his ear and hear him moaning.

He smiled, wanton. Above him, she started doing everything he did to her, sucked on her neck, sucked on her breast, on her nipples, and he just responded with grunts and sighs. She wanted him to moan, it would be better if he moaned. She kissed his belly and went down until it reached his penis. She knew more or less what to do, but she wanted it to be perfect for him.

She held it in her hand and sucked on the top, it was more fun to play with the top. She licked the base completely and that was when she heard him moan loudly. Yes, there was the key. She started slowly, very slowly, rolling her tongue around and pulling the rest of the skin with her hand. Then she accelerated the movements. She felt him stick his fingers in her hair to force her to go faster, she thought of hitting his hand and letting her do it alone, but in fact it cheered her up more, so she let him pull her hair and bury his cock harder in her mouth.

  
"You said you would give me a crazy passion," she said, already on top of him with her legs spread and sucking on his neck.

"Do what you want with me today," he said, squeezing the flesh of her butt so hard it would leave marks. "Tomorrow I will make you fall in love with me."

"I would like to see you try." She kissed him.

He always smiled and bit his lip, and when he do it this more liquid dripped from her legs. He had some kind of power, maybe the gods had given him some kind of power: to be irresistible in Sansa's eyes.

She knew how to ride him, she had to learn from Ramsay, but with Jaime it was different, she wanted to. Then she put it inside and slid.

"Gods!" she sang.

"Seven hells!" He cursed as he pressed the flesh of her pink skin.

His penis fit inside, it was a little too big for her, but that made it even better. She rested her hand on his chest and started to move on top of him. Up and down. She leaned back and it was there that she found the sky, his penis was touching something inside her that she couldn't explain in words the sensation.

Jaime's hand went to her breast, squeezing it and pinching her nipple. She moaned louder than he, but he also accompanied her. She was slowing down with fatigue, and when she was slapped on the thigh and another on the butt, she felt the fire rise again.

"Oh fuck, Sansa. Keep going like this." He bit his lips and look at her with flame on the eyes. "You feel so good."

"Mmm. You feel good too, Jaime. You feel very good. Oh." Her breathing became irregular.

She leaned over and lay on Jaime's body this time, moving only her hips. Her face was facing his. Squeezed eyes, slightly open mouth, furrowed brows. She felt more beautiful giving him pleasure, forgot everything for a moment, the people who tormented her, the scars, that she was the queen. She could only concentrate on Jaime and how beautiful and delicious he was.

She spilled on him and he came right after. Sansa had learned that a man's pleasure comes very quickly, so Jaime should be waiting for hers to arrive first.

She wanted to throw herself at him and sleep there on his strong chest. She kissed him on the lips.

"Spend the night with me." It was more of an order than a request.

"Actually, it won't be long before dawn" - he said, smiling. "We spent all night fucking, look how we are, Sansa." He laughed and she followed him, she was already used to her vocabulary.

"Then spend the rest of the night," she said, giving him another kiss. He smiled and she took it as a yes. "Tomorrow we will have great tasks. If those old men do not resolve themselves, I will bring down both their castle."

He laughed, watching her get angry. He ran his fingers through her hair again, he seemed to like her hair.

"Are you madly in love with me?" - He smiled.

"You are very convinced." She patted him on the cheek and threw herself across the bed.

She woke up later without having Jaime in her bed. Luckily for her, she still managed to catch him before he put on his shorts, so she could have a nice view of the morning illuminating his cock and butt. She bit her lip, thinking about attacking him and bringing him back to bed and riding him again.

"The sun has risen, my queen. The Braavosi are waiting for her to breakfast."

"The Braavosi" she lamented, after that night, she didn't want to get up for anything. She just wanted to be with Jaime.

He put on the linen shorts and then put on the wool shorts and then put on a silk top, put on the linen shirt and then put on another piece of wool, then put on a golden fabric doublet with collar fastenings until the end of the doublet golden. Jaime did not like wearing leather, she had never seen him wearing leather, she would have to ask him why one day. He looked so beautiful in that outfit, he looked so ... so ... Her center was already completely wet. He put on his black boots.

"I will send your maids to bring hot water to your bathtub ..."

He came closer, touched Sansa's knee and spread her legs, his index finger touched the crease in her folds, ran his finger all over her, from the bottom up.

"... Because, my queen, you still wet."

  
She gave a slight sigh when he removed his finger. She stretched out on her furs, too lazy to get up and discuss about the kingdom, she wanted to be with Jaime, pouring out and enjoying him all day.

"Will you visit me later?" she asked him, as sly as she always was.

"Oh, if my lady likes my cock so much that she can't be without it for one night, of course I will visit her."

"Jaime ..." - she purred. She really liked it, liked it very much, didn't want to be without him for even one night. "Come here ..." she called him softly and he came like a dog obeys his owner.

She kissed him very slowly, pulling his lips with hers, she did everything slowly while pulling on the collar of her doublet. He collapsed on top of her. He kissed her lips, then sucked her breasts, and then he ended up in her groin, sucking her like it was the last time he did it in his life ... If it depended on Sansa, this wouldn't be the last time.

He made her spill again and stood up, smiling, all victorious, as if he had won a battle. He went to the door and opened it.

"Ah, Jaime ..." - she called him. She remembered everything from last night, she had even found out who was the woman he was stuck with. She just hadn't discovered a thing. "Who is the woman you... I mean. Who did you ever wish to marry?"

With the door half open, he gave one of his wide smiles, beautiful and captivating.

"Well, you of course!" - And then he left the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts. 

**Author's Note:**

> Any thoughts?


End file.
